


You're the one, or thing, or whatever that started... the kitchen thing.

by bomyregards



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Mild Humiliation, Multi, Other, Spit Play, Spitroast, Threesome, dirty talking, dubcon, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bomyregards/pseuds/bomyregards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to http://itsthewrongnumbersong.tumblr.com/post/132177608676<br/>Gaster and Sans have some fun with you.<br/>Assume you live in Sans and Papyrus' home, on the couch, probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the one, or thing, or whatever that started... the kitchen thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the "first chapter" so to speak at --> http://itsthewrongnumbersong.tumblr.com/post/132177608676

You were woken by the flashing lights of the television, lucky enough to turn away from the couch wall at the perfect moment to be blinded behind your eyelids. You shook your head and buried yourself in the arm of the couch. Your grumbling did not go unnoticed as you felt weight shift from the other side of the couch. You hugged your blanket cocoon, not exactly excited about what was sure to come.  
  
You already knew it was Sans. He had wanted a talk. And seeing how he asked you so many times, each one more demanding than the last... gave you a little bit of fear. You couldn't exactly tell him that a mystery being was literally fucking with you, right? Right? Sans was your best friend, and he wasn't the type to love hearing all of your sexually exploitative stories (which were, admittedly, few and far between.)  
  
However, you could feel Sans' eyes trained on you, waiting. You shuffled a bit, huffing, the sound muffled by your protective barrier of fleece. The skeleton chuckled, that classic "heh," before moving and putting his hand on what he guessed was your foot or calve. It was actually your thigh, but you did your best to not flinch. There was a crawling fear in the back of your mind that if he knew how you reacted to. That stuff. He'd know your terrible secret.  
  
You really wish you didn't have to talk about it. It was... kind of embarrassing. But in a hot way? Was that weird? You pulled your blankets over your head, waiting for Sans to talk. To distract you. To do anything but just wait for you to talk. But it seemed like that was exactly what he was doing, probably watching generic MTT-brand television as he kept his hand on your leg, as if to comfort you? Let you know he wasn't going anywhere? All it did was make you flustered and want to hide more...  
  
It seemed your luck had gotten even worse though, and was having nothing of that. Ghostly hands brushed against your body under your blanket, making you tense and bite the inside of your cheek. Oh no. Oh no no. The hands teased your lower back, making you arch and shiver under your blankets. They felt just a little bit more real this time, had a bit more substance to them. Maybe... maybe you would indulge yourself a little more this time. It's not like Sans could see through your blankets, and any fidgeting wouldn't be too suspicious, right?  
  
You shook your head, burying your face into the cushions as two more hands groped at your rear, pushing your cheeks together and spreading them, massaging your ass. And of course, this drove you fucking ballistic. How did these mystery hands know? How did they know where to touch and explore as you grabbed your blankets tight, hands shaking. God. It was unbearable, one moving down to touch the super sensitive flesh between your rear and thighs...!  
  
"Sans." You had to say something. You had to admit to him now before you, um, accidentally came in front of him again. Well beside him now, but technicalities didn't matter when your sanity was on the line.  
  
"yeah? what's up?" How did he sound so nonchalant? You whined under your blanket burrito, mumbling gibberish. You kept at least your legs as still as possible, Sans' hand still there for some reason, and you didn't want to accidentally kick him either.  
  
"I. There's been some-" Your breath hitched as the hands pinched at your sides, almost tickling you. "Some- some, something going. I d-don't know what." A new ghostly appendage formed to massage the back of your neck, making you tilt your head and cover your face and eyes. "It's super weird, and I don't know how to explain it besides 'I feel like I'm being touched. All the time.'" You just spat it out, breath getting heavier and heavier as you were massaged all around, body shaking and sweating as your blanket prison started to become unbearably hot.  
  
"is that so." Wait. What. Why was he so casual? Does he have experience with ghost hands? "what kinds of things do they do?" Oh no. Not that question.  
  
"They... touch me."  
  
"well, yeah kiddo. how do they touch you?" You frown at the childish nickname, having far grown out of it, but the second half makes you sweat a little.  
  
You are a bit stunned, both by the invasive question and the fact the hands are fully massaging your ass, rubbing large circles with their palms and squeezing. "They- right now, there-" You could almost hear Sans' breath hitch. "They're touching my... butt..." You practically whispered the shameful truth, face getting redder and redder. "And- and my neck, and my back. There's like, f- f- four hands touching me right now."  
  
"i know i call you kiddo, but i thought you could at least count," he chuckled darkly, before squeezing your thigh. You choked on your own shock, thighs squeezing together as you finally let out a moan.  
  
"O-okay. Fffive. It was you the whole time? But in the... kitchen..." You could barely process thoughts as one of the hands stopped harassing your ass just the press your vulva over your pajama pants. "You can't be that good of an act- actor...!" You bucked as the ghost hand moved up, its large palm pressing on your labia while a finger rubbed your clit, the fabric adding to the sensation.  
  
"you'd be right. that wasn't exactly me. but just seeing you, and seeing your reaction..." His voice became dark, husky, full of want. You started getting the littlest bit louder, wanting to just succumb to all this pleasure, embarrassment gone. "i wouldn't jump your bones, and overstimulate ya though. i'm not that kind of skeleton." You sighed happily into the cushion, silently thanking him.  
  
"I w̧ou͜l͞d͜n͘'t ̷şay͜ th̵e sàm͢e," And there it was. That mystery voice that had been haunting your daydreams and your libido. Sans chuckled, his hand on your thigh cautiously tugging at the blankets you had been using to protect yourself, as if asking if he could talk them off. You shoved the blankets off your face, humiliation of your mussed hair, sweaty face, or glazed over eyes nothing on the lust clouding your head. Sans' grin seemed to grow even wider, as he tugged them off in a flash, and you had a lot to adjust to without your cocoon.  
  
First off, you can see the hands fondling you were still, yes, ghostly hands, but they were cyan, with wider palms and thinner fingers than the iconic ghost hands you were already familiar with. Second, Sans' was facing towards you, actual bone hand grabbing at your legs, eye glowing the same blue as the hands.  
  
The faintest spark in the back of your mind mused about just how different the ghost hands were: Sans' were, of course, visible, and much more grabby. The mysterious hands were a little more romantic? indulging in holding your hand, exploring your mouth... Sans overall seemed to be rougher, but at least he was a little more bashful about it.  
  
"H́ow gr̸e̶ed̡y ҉a h̷u̢m̵an͝ ͝ćan͏ ̸b̵e." The mystery man, on the other hand, was simply scientific. Exploratory. Sometimes he felt predatory, of all things, exploring your body wantonly in front of someone else.  
  
"How am I... the greedy one?" You pool up your courage to talk back a little bit, grinding your hips slowly on Sans' cyan ghost hand. "You're the one, or thing, or whatever that started... the kitchen thing." You almost cut yourself off with a gasp as a very large ghost hand cupped your face. You knew it had to be his.  
  
You heard him laugh for the first time: it was a bit of a goofy laugh, almost masked by that white noise voice box. You didn't think it was a very happy laugh, however.  
  
He ignored you, instead moving his single hand to play with your lips, rubbing the pad of his thumb against them as Sans massaged his palm against your other pair. You were in heaven. You were in total bliss, being so pleased by everything and everyone around you. Even as the large ghost hand pressed a very large ghost finger into your mouth, you couldn't help but swirl your tongue around it, biting it gently. Your physical parts phased through what seemed to be layers of ghost, but his choking, breathy, almost giggle-like sounds from it let you know you weren't doing bad.  
  
And god were they both making you feel so good. Sans had pulled your panties aside, not to penetrate you, but to tease and play with your labia and clit, ghost hand doing all the work for him. The mystery hand in your mouth touched at your wet tongue, pressing you down until you started drooling. Embarrassed, you gagged a little, pushing yourself away from his finger. That effort only led to you grinding against Sans' hand, making the both of you groan.  
  
You were sandwiched in between two bread slices of total bliss and you couldn't be more pleased. You felt like you were going to go insane, waiting for Sans' fingers to finally penetrate you like the other hand, waiting for the mystery ghost to give you more hands to play with, waiting, waiting, waiting --!  
  
At the tip of your excitement, you felt your whole world turn at the flip of a coin. Flashes of grays and blues overcame your vision and you yelped, your body feeling like air, floating. You were suddenly dropped, breath caught in your throat, waiting for the inevitable thud before you were caught. You coughed, still in a pleasure high, wondering what the fuck just happened.  
  
"wish you woulda warned me pal," Sans' tone was just a tad bit threatening, and you felt a bit worried.  
  
"I c͢òu̡ldn̵'t h͡e̴lp ͜m͢y̢s̛e̡lf͘," the garbled voice replied, mirth in its voice. Your bit your lip. Was Sans... being protective of you? You couldn't hold back your childish smile as cyan blue hands set you gently on the floor of... the shed. Your smile faded.  
  
"Why here?" you asked, curious and a little offended. The couch was so comfortable. You looked to Sans for guidance, but all he offered was a shrug as he re-summoned his lovely ghost hands. You looked anywhere else in the room, not sure exactly where your ghost 'friend' was hiding.  
  
"I͠ wańt͜ to ̢hea̷r ýou͘ at ͠your̷ ͢lou̵d̷e̸st," was his only explanation, and it made your heart do backflips. You could only whine in your response, rubbing your thighs together. You heard Sans' let out a whistle from behind you, but you knew he was just hiding the fact he found it so hot. You looked back at him to see him staring above you, at empty space, as if he saw something you didn't.  
  
"so..." He made finger guns, moving them side to side, as if trying to articulate something. You didn't really understand it, and you kindof just wanted them to hurry up so you could get back to the action again. Sans made a couple more gestures (one of them was pantomiming a trombone, for some reason?) and you heard that dark, noisy chuckle.  
  
"Yes͘, o̷f͞ courśę. Hav̕e y̧our ͡f͞un." You didn't understand what that meant. You were about to stand up, to protest, to question what the heck was going on behind your back. You were stopped by a ghostly hand, pushing you fully to the floor roughly. You grit your teeth, glaring in front of you, hoping to catch wherever he was so you could show him your angry expression. How _dare_ he!  
  
You brought your legs in and hips up, attempting to get up that way, but was stopped by a corporeal skeleton hand on your ass. You twitched, hands clenching into fists as Sans' small ghost hands lifted up your hips into the perfect ass up-face down position, back arched a little unpleasantly. But unpleasantness could easily be ignored when you felt a phallus grinding against your mons instead of just fingers.  
  
"Oh my gosh..!" Your legs quivered as Sans gently grabbed at your hips, grinding and sighing and chuckling as he played with you. The mystery hand on your back let you free, satisfied you weren't going anywhere. You used the opportunity to bring your hands up and bury your reddened face in them. "S-Sans..."  
  
At the sound of his name, he grunted and bucked against you, pelvis brushing against your flesh. You hissed, wondering how good it would feel to have him buck like that inside you.  
  
"you're- god, you're so-" He couldn't even finish anything. He started a sentence and then stopped when you moved against him, teasing him back. He caught you off guard, however, when he flicked your entrance with the tip of his cock. You gasped, hips moving back to meet with his instinctively. You surprised even yourself with your boldness, face flushing crimson anew. You heard the mystery ghost chuckle at you both.  
  
"I- I'm, I'm sorry?"  
  
"please, d- don't be. c-can..." You took a peek back at him to see Sans blushing wildly, turquoise covering his cheeks. It was kind of cute. "can I? may I? I wanna go so bone deep in you right now, oh my god." He tried to cover his arousal with a pun, but he couldn't even fool himself.  
  
"Yes, yes please Sans. I'd freaking l-" you didn't even get to finish before half of his stout cock was inside you, your soaked cunt making it easy. You started panting as he thrusted slowly. Out of your sight, he looked up again and winked. Also out of your sight, the figure winked back.  
  
You didn't even have time to recover from that before you feel fingers in your mouth, pressing, exploring, groping at your tongue, your gums, getting spit everywhere. Your cry was muffled by the overly large fingers stuffed in your mouth - there were two, and it felt like a normal person's four. You started to drool again, and the mystery man just took full advantage, using the thumb to swipe some of the spit and wipe it on your cheek, as if to just see your reaction. Which was, naturally, to be a little grossed out. And the tiniest bit turned on, but maybe that was partly affected by Sans' gentle thrusts and who knows what's fingers violating your mouth.  
  
"I ̕am D͡r͝. ̸G͠a̧şt̛er͘," the mystery man, apparently named Gaster, finally said, introducing himself. You would have thought that would happen before the finger face-fucking, before he made you cum in the kitchen in front of who you thought was an innocent bystander. You would've thought, but it seemed like the thought had just occurred to him, as if he had forgotten the proper way to greet a new pal. The 'doctor' seemed a bit nervous about this, fingers slowing their exploration. You looked up, trying to look up at him, hoping you succeeded, and started to bob your head on his fingers, as if you were sucking a cock.  
  
It drove him wild. He spread his two fingers, creating a 'V' shape with your tongue and stretching your lips. You couldn't help but lick at the ghostly fingers, holding back a choke as you had to put all your focus onto just breathing carefully.  
  
And of course Sans wasn't going to let you have that. He must've noticed your struggles, your moans, your hips bouncing back on his, as if physically begging him to speed up his pace. And only when Gaster started exploring with all the more vigor did Sans as well, finally thrusting in fully, his pelvic bone meeting your rear as he pounded into you with light, quick thrusts.  
  
You scrambled to grab onto anything as you got mercilessly _spitroasted._ Your hands settled on a pair of ghostly hands Gaster had conjured for you, holding your hands tight as he locked fingers as best he could with your much smaller ones. You moaned around his the digits in your mouth, whining as Sans' momentum forced you forward, practically making you bob your head on them. You honestly thought if someone could die from pleasure, this would be how. Moaning, a mess, getting fucked so hard you could barely think about anything other than the cock in your cunt and the digits spreading your lips.  
  
Just kidding. This would be how you die. Ghostly invisible appendages and Sans' extra cyan hands appeared once more: their only purpose was to feel you up and drive you wild. They grabbed at your breasts, your thighs, your back, and one of Sans' even went to pull your hair. You were going crazy, your orgasm so close as you were just used and petted and massaged, your hand held and two holes getting double penetrated. You felt so good, _so alive,_ like you didn't need to feel anything after this and, and, _and_ \--  
  
You screamed around Gaster's fingers, your entire body shaking and shivering, legs twitching together as your knees threatened to buckle under you - but neither of the boys' would let that happen, ghostly appendages holding you up in a perfect position for them to continue their assault, even as you writhed against them. You felt like you couldn't take any more of this, vision blurring as bopping back and forth became robotic, automatic. Oversensitive neurons were going fucking insane in your body, shooting signals of pain, pleasure, of pure bliss to your brain and back.  
  
You felt like you were melting, made of thin air, body hot and burning and boiling as your panted and sighed. You felt Sans' pace change, going rough, making short thrusts deep into you as you felt your world shift. You were too sensitive, too everything for this to be happening right now. And so your body shut off, and you blacked out.  
  
\--  
  
It was morning when you woke up. You were sleeping in a bed, strangely enough, your entire body aching. You vaguely processed your surroundings - trash, laundry, things thrown everywhere and flying around the room - and guessed you were in Sans' room. You move to get up, expecting it to be slow because 1. you had just woken up and 2. you were fucking sore, but not because of the true result, 3. getting pulled back to bed by the skeleton behind you. You were tempted to look back, but you had already guessed it was Sans from the bundle of jacket fabric you were huddled in.  
  
What you didn't expect were ghostly hands to grab at yours, just gently rubbing circles on the back of your hand. You decided you were too tired to ask questions, and just snuggled in with the... two? figures beside you.


End file.
